The men of St. John’s College, Cambridge, like every other society in both Oxford and Cambridge, have their soubriquet. From what cause they obtained that of “Johnian Hogs” is yet scarcely settled, though much has been written thereon, extant in The Gradus ad Cant., Facetiæ Cant., and The Cambridge Tart. It proved of some service, however, to a wag of the society (and to them the merit of punning was conceded in the Spectator’s time,) in giving him an idea for a name for the elegant one-arched covered bridge which joins the superb Gothic court they have lately added to the fine old college, after the designs of Messrs. Hutchinson and Rickman of Birmingham. The question was discussed at a wine party, and one proposed calling it the “Bridge of Sighs,” as it led to most of the tutors’ and deans’ rooms, from whom issued all impositions (punishments,) &c. “I have it!” exclaimed a wag, his eyes beaming brighter than his sparkling glass—“I have it! Call it the Isthmus of Suez!” Id est The Hog’s Isthmus, from the Latin word sus, a sow, which makes suis in the genitive case, and proves our Johnian to be a punster worthy of his school.
YOU ARE TO PRAY AND FIGHT, NOT TO DRINK FOR THE CHURCH.
Mr. Jones, of Welwyn, relates, on the authority of Old Mr. Bunburry, of Brazen-nose College, that Bishop Kennett, when a young man, being one of the Oxford Pro-Proctors, and a very active one, about James the Second’s reign, going his rounds one evening, found a company of gownsmen engaged on a drinking bout, to whom his then high church principles were notorious (though he afterwards changed them, sided with Bishop Hoadley, and obtained the soubriquet of weather-cock Kennett.) When he entered the room, he reprimanded them for keeping such late hours, especially over the bottle, rather than over their studies in their respective colleges, and ordered them to disperse. One in the company, who knew his political turn, addressed him with, “Mr. Proctor, you will, I am sure, excuse us when I say, we were met to drink prosperity to the church, to which you can have no objection.” “Sir,” was his answer, with a solemn air, “we are to pray for the church, and to fight for the church, not to drink for the church.” Upon which the company paid their reckoning and dispersed. There is a curious print in the Library of the Antiquarians, of an altar-piece, which the rector of Whitechapel, Dr. Walton, caused to be painted and put up in his church, representing Christ and his twelve apostles eating the passover, wherein Bishop Kennett (the “Traitor Dean,” as his siding with Hoadley caused him to be designated) is painted as Judas.
SIGNS OF A GOOD APPETITE.
When a late master of Richmond School, Yorkshire, came, a raw lad in his teens, to matriculate at Trinity College, Cambridge, he was invited to dinner by his tutor, and happened to be seated opposite some boiled fowls, which, having just emptied a plate of his quantum of fish, he was requested to carve. He accordingly took one on his plate, but not being a carver, he leisurely ate the whole of it, minus the bones, not at all disconcerted by the smiles of the other guests: and when the cheese appeared, and his host cut a plateful for him to pass round the table, he coolly set to and eat the whole himself. He, notwithstanding, proved a good scholar, and distinguished himself both in classics and mathematics, is now a canon residentiary of St. Paul’s, and a very worthy divine, who has earned his reputation, preferments, and dignities by his merits only.
A COLLEGE QUIZ.
The following effusion of humour was the production of a very pleasant fellow, an Oxford scholar, now no more, who, says Angelo, in his Reminiscences, “was a great favourite among his brother collegians,” and a humourist:—“Lost £10 this morning, May 15, 1808, in Peckwater Quadrangle, near No. 6. Any nobleman, gentleman, common student, or commoner, who will, as soon as possible, bring the same back to the afflicted loser, shall, with pleasure, receive ten guineas reward; a suitor shall receive five guineas; and a scout or porter, one guinea. The notes were all Bank of England notes, I only received this morning from my father. My name is ——, and I lodge at ——, facing Tom Gate, where I am anxiously waiting for some kind friend to bring them to me.—Vivant Rex et Regina.”